


Wet Dream

by Gaqalesqua



Series: Elder Scrolls Kink Meme Fills [10]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Community: skyrimkinkmeme, Dream Sex, Elves, F/M, Fingering, Skyrim Kink Meme, Smut, Wall Sex, bosmer - Freeform, hot damn fucking elves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 15:23:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5009887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaqalesqua/pseuds/Gaqalesqua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The local fence appears to be dealing in dreams now</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wet Dream

Alwen liked the rooms at the Frozen Hearth. They had doors, and the inn was warm and welcoming, unlike the cold blue of the College, which had no privacy whatever. Best of all, she could move her business downstairs if the guards came to drink, and trade her goods with Enthir without worrying they’d catch her with something hot and haul her away.

 The elf in question was a bit of a bastard, but he had good stock, and he’d not ripped her off yet. Besides, he was friendly enough and he never asked questions. She couldn’t have asked for a better fence.

 The Bosmer had just finished a transaction regarding some trinket of Onmund’s – Dibella only knew why the boy was throwing away things he secretly wanted to keep – and she headed back to her room, shutting her door and stripping out of her armour. By anyone’s estimation, it was late – an hour past midnight, if her body had any inkling – and so, dozy, she kicked off her boots and slid into the cozy bed in just her smalls and a loose robe. She curled into the blankets and fell asleep almost instantly, but she very quickly found her head…occupied.

 There was a dark corridor with light spilling through a doorway, and furniture and random junk strewn across the landscape.

 There were also two naked elves.

 The female was wrapped around the male, kissing enthusiastically, her dark hair strewn about her shoulders as she writhed in his grip. His hips were pressed against hers, movements fluid and slick. He didn’t appear to be in her, but whatever he was doing, she was enjoying, and Alwen watched her rake nails down his back and cup his ass.

 She arched in delight, and Alwen saw her own face through the messy dark hair, biting her lip as the male elf’s fingers did something to her sex. Since when did she dream about such things?! Unconsciously the Bosmeri woman slid her hand down into her smallclothes and watched the dream raptly as the mer pressed the woman harder against the wall and slipped inside her, pounding Alwen in the way she liked – because of course this was a dream, and this dream Bosmer would know everything she wanted – and watched herself hold on for dear life whilst he fucked her brilliantly. There was a lot of grinding and whimpering, and her dream-lover certainly had no shortage of noise – deep, rough, like paper across glass and massaging her ears with its sound.

 The Bosmer locked her hips around her own hand, and as her orgasm dragged her out of her dreams, she saw Enthir’s face pressing against her dream-self’s neck, nipping on it.

 It was morning when she came to, red-faced and wide-eyed, panting confusedly in the bed.

 Enthir?!

 She didn’t dislike the mer, but she wasn’t particularly keen on him either, despite his status as her fence, and she had DEFINITELY NEVER thought of him fucking her before. Where had that dream come from?! She thought back to the grunts and growls he made and a fresh wave of arousal rolled through her. She fled her bed, climbing back into her clothes, collecting her weapons and running out of the door to the College.

 Onmund was delighted at the return of his amulet, and he hugged her tightly and spoke of following her around. The thought was nice, but not plausible – the work she did required her to be in places she shouldn’t, and she didn’t want to drag Onmund down into that.

 “Arniel was looking for you,” he added, and she sighed.

 “Of course he was,” she muttered. “As if anyone in this province is capable of doing anything for themselves.”

 She headed up the stairs to find the wizard, and after some stammering from the Breton, she dragged from him that he needed something from Enthir to complete his work. Her mind filled with images of the slender elf thrusting, and she blushed her way through the rest of her conversation and hurried away.

 Oh, gods.

 She left the College, trying to circulate ice spells around her robes to calm her hot body, and entered the Frozen Hearth covered in frost, which quickly melted in the warm air. Brushing aside Haran’s attempts to chat, she simply shot her a small smile and, upon seeing that Enthir wasn’t on the ground floor, she proceeded to head into the lower floor, finding him scribbling down in a notebook and bent over a table. His head raised and his dark eyes met hers, and Alwen gulped as she walked forward.

 “I’m back again,” she said casually. “This time, Arniel wants to know the whereabouts of his ‘item’.”

 Enthir chuckled and she tried to ignore the deepness of his voice, burying the urge to lick her lip at his expression of mirth.

 “Well, I hate to disappoint you, but it looks like it’s the same arrangement as yesterday,” he told her, mildly apologetically. “Grab me a staff from a particular bad character, and I’ll help you out.”

 “For a man who refuses to let people go back on deals, you’re very keen to undo some of your own,” she commented, blushing as he rose and stretched. His robes hugged his body tightly and revealed to her that he had no fat on him. He was all lean muscle, and she didn’t realise he was staring until he coughed.

 “If I didn’t occasionally go back on my deals, people would likely die,” he said. “Any reason why you’re staring?”

 “You’re very…slim,” she explained. He chuckled again, and she barely hid the sharp intake of breath at the sound, causing the elf to stare at her in curiosity. “Staff!” she barked, and turned, running out of the door.

 

* * *

 

 

 She destroyed an entire coven of wizards to get the Staff of Tandil back, and collapsed in her quarters upon returning to Winterhold. It was 12 hours later that she finally awoke, and went to find Enthir.

 He was in his room beneath the Frozen Hearth, his hands flicking a ball of light through the air, which vanished with a pop when she approached. She drew out the staff and slumped heavily in a nearby chair, watching how he handled the return property. His fingers swept down the handle and curved over the tip, examining it for damage, cracks and wear. There were none. He turned to look at her with a satisfied smirk.

 “Well, another thing successfully retrieved from some dank location in the back end of nowhere,” he commented. “Are you enjoying being an errand girl, Nightingale?”

 “Don’t sass me, Enthir,” she warned. “Do you have Arniel’s ‘item’?”

 “Sure,” the Bosmer replied. “Tell Arniel I don’t know what he could possibly get out of this. It’s warped beyond all use.”

 He located a soul gem, odd and twisted, and Alwen took it in confusion.

 “I’m not going to ask,” she said decidedly.

 “Probably a good idea,” Enthir agreed, leaning over the table. The neckline of his robe dropped and exposed a slim, toned chest, and Alwen promptly forgot what she was doing. When he looked up, she blushed heavily, held up the gem, and then fled. The elf’s laughter followed her out of the door.

 Half an hour later, she was back to sell the loot she’d gathered on her trip and scream into a pillow.

 “I am not doing another thing that man asks,” she growled into an open bottle of mead. Enthir, marking up his ledger, laughed.

 “Now you know my frustration.” He paused. “Speaking of frustration, you’ve been staring an awful lot.”

 “Don’t take it personally,” she said hurriedly. “I just…”

 “Something something women’s cycle,” he finished, one eyebrow raising. “I wouldn’t mind helping that, if you wanted.”

 “Enthir-!”

 “I’m serious,” the elf chuckled. “You do so much running around, when’s the last time you were bent over a table and-”

 “Wall,” she blurted out. “I-I prefer the wall.”

 “I see,” he murmured. Alwen put down her mead and stood, her face red. Enthir skirted around the table and his hands grasped the Bosmer by the waist, pushing her back until she was pressed against the wall. The elf wasted no time in undoing the complicated Nightingale armour, and she watched with rapt approval as he stripped her.

 “How did you know what to do?” she asked in shock. He grinned as he dropped the dark grey leather to the floor.

 “How many times do you think I patched up Gallus?” he chuckled. “This armour is second nature to me now.”

 She helped him shuck his satchel and robes, pulling his tunic over his head and exposing the toned chest she’d caught a glimpse of not long ago. His fingers brushed her bare skin as he pulled a leg around his waist, his thin lips meeting hers warmly. Alwen moaned, her arms curling around her neck as he ground against her, massaging her skin with his soft fingertips and enjoying her kisses. He ground his hip, hard, against her core, and the female elf let out a moan of pleasure, letting him strip off her smallclothes and shimmying out of them. He stroked along her folds casually as he continued to kiss her, his lips peppering her jawline and down her neck. Two digits slipped gently inside of her, and Alwen was reminded of her dream as he fingered her softly.

 He bit gently along her collarbone, lapping the marks, and she tangled her fingers into his hair and began to play with his ears. The resulting groan of pleasure made her tingle, her head tossing back as his fingers buzzed with magic and a glow settled over her body. She held him tighter as he wound her up, his hand moving faster until she was writhing against him, panting. She pushed his hand away and he smirked at her, watching how she reached for his length and guided it inside her.

 Enthir held her like she was weightless, pushed up against the walls as he began to thrust, their lips meeting once more, and she gripped his slim shoulders as she whimpered his name.

 “Harder,” she whispered, her wet tongue running over the point of his ear, and he groaned, bucking faster, and Alwen spurred him on until he was pounding her, identical to her dream, and the Bosmer woman came with a delicious sense of mirth running through her. Enthir didn’t stop, holding her with one arm and rubbing her nub with the other. Sensitive, Alwen cried out his name, squirming in his grip, her hurried rocking driving towards his own end. When he came, she shoved her up against a wall, kissing her to muffle his own moans, rubbing her until she contorted into a curve and came again.

 Both elves disentangled themselves, and Enthir smirked at her, watching her blush through the flush on her face.

 “You’re wonderfully clear about what you want,” he began.

 “I…”

 She coughed awkwardly.

 “I sort of…dreamed about you.”

 “Ohhhhhh,” Enthir purred, watching her run for her armour. As she tried to leave, he caught her waist, pulling her towards him for a deep, bone-melting kiss. “Tell me more.”

 “Well, you’ve lived it!” she gasped. He chuckled, releasing her.

 “Come back when you want to live it again,” he told her, picking up his clothes. Blushing heavily now, the Bosmer thief dressed and hurried out of the room.


End file.
